Papers
by thewibblywobblywolf
Summary: Whitey Bay reads the paper and answers a call from a friend.


Bay traced her finger around the edge of her glass, humming an old pirate medley under her breath. She was thumbing through the day's paper, idly observing the alternatively fierce, happy and bloodthirsty expressions that decorated the wanted men's faces.

"Miss Whitey?"

Whitey Bay looked up from her paper at the soft voice, directing her gaze at the bartender that had served her the frankly delicious sake that she was enjoying with her paper.

"Yes?"

"You're reading the paper the wrong way around," the bartender said timidly. Bay arched an eyebrow at him when he started sweating nervously.

"I am," she wouldn't be too hard on him, it genuinely seemed like he merely wanted to be helpful, but she had long since tired of the way people insisted on reading.

"Don't- don't you want to read it the right way around?" It was kind of amusing, seeing the big man flickering his gaze around like a prey animal about to take off.

"Not really, no," she answered, moistening her thumb to turn a paticularly stubborn page, "Is that a problem?" she asked, forcing the poor man to meet her gaze.

"O-of course not, Miss Whitey-"

"Whitey, you say?" came a loud voice from behind them. Bay sighed in exasperation, she'd recognise that tone of voice anywhere, no matter how unfamiliar the users of the tone may be.

"Whitey Bay?" said another voice, one that carried the same annoyingly superior cadence as the first one.

"Whitey Bay?" the first snorted, "Mo'e like Whitey _Bae_!"

Bay almost snorted herself. That must be the stupidest nickname anyone had ever given her. Just then a meaty, sweaty arm was thrown around her shoulder, trying to cop a feel where it draped itself across her chest.

"So, Bae, how 'bout gettin' outta here wif me an' me buddy here?"

His breath reeked of alcohol where it fell hot against her ear and Bay wrinkled her nose.

"How about I skewer you and your buddy?" she responded in the same tone of voice as the man, fingering the sword hanging from her waist.

"Don' be like tha-" the scoundrel didn't get to finish his sentence, for Bay's elbow caught him in the gut, knocking the air out of him and pushing him to the floor.

"Hey!" the man got to his feet again, now enraged.

"Purupurupurupuru." They all stopped at the sound coming from the inside of Bay's coat.

"Hm?" Bay reached into her coat, pulling out the mini transponder snail that she kept on her when she went out. She unhooked the reciever and brought it to her lips.

"This is the Ice Witch," she told the transponder snail.

"Hello, Bay, yoi," the mildly amused - mildly only because he hadn't been very joyous at all since Teach's betrayal and the events that followed - voice of Whitebeard's First Division Commander said.

"Marco! How lovely to hear from you," she said pleasantly.

"I wish the circumstances were better, yoi," Marco responded, sounding more serious than usual. Bay's smile stilled. She really didn't like the sound of that.

"He-hey! You can't just go and do shit like that without repercussions, you bitch!" The wavering voice of one of the scoundrel's friends shouted, his friends joining in the shouting until she no longer could hear Marco's voice.

She brought the reciever closer to her mouth, "Give me a moment, Marco dear, it's very noisy in here," she said, not waiting for an answer before she put the reciever down on the bar and stood from her seat.

The men backed away when she turned and they saw her expression - one she knew was very terrifying, it had sent more than some puny thugs running in the past.

She cracked her knuckles, this scum didn't deserve her sword. She threw her first punch, breaking a nose, she elbowed the next where it really hurt and crushed a kneecap with her heel. One by one they went down, until only one was left. She raised an eyebrow at him and he went running on shaking legs.

She sat down on her barstool again with a content smile, picking up the reciever again.

"Sorry about that, dear, I had to take out the trash," she said pleasantly, knowing that he would've waited.

"Of course, yoi, don't worry about it. Have you read the paper today?" The snail was astoundingly good at imitating the lazy way Marco spoke, and the way that his eyelids made him look much more tired, but this seemed like more than just the way his features aligned. He was tired, very tired.

"I was in the middle of doing so just now actually."

"Turn to the front page, yoi," Marco commanded. Bay did, closing the paper and turning it over. Her eyes widened when the words and the picture displayed there registered. Ace. _Ace was going to be executed_.

"What are we doing about it?" Bay choked.

"Meet us at the usual place, yoi," Marco told her simply.

"I'll be there," Bay said darkly. No one messed with the Whitebeards on her watch, especially not with everyone's little brother. The marines were sure to have hell to pay when the family all got their hands on them.

 **AN: Because Whitey Bay is a seriously underappreciated (not as underappreciated as the other Whitebeard allies but still) badass who deserves a fic on her birthday! (I know I'm like half an hour late and this is really shitty, but at least it's something, eh?) Also, WHY THE HELL IS THERE NO CHARACTER SLOT FOR WHITEY BAY? HUH?**

 **Update: There is now a character slot for the lovely badass we call Whitey Bay, thank you, BlackGryphon101, for telling me so! ^^**


End file.
